No shot at love
Can this blind-date duo hit it off without the help of nerve-calming booze?
Mon Dec 22 2008
Writers not pictured. Photograph: Beth Levendis
7:45pm Standing outside of Spitzer’s (101 Rivington St at Ludlow St; 212-228-0027, spitzerscorner.com). She’s late; it’s raining. I feel hungry, but that could just be gnawing fear/terror.
7:48pm I keep my eyes peeled for someone looking particularly resentful—as though they’ve been made to wait in the pouring rain by their unforgivably late date.
7:50pm Nah, it’s hunger.
7:54pm He’s actually good-looking! I was prepared to meet Sloth from The Goonies. Thankfully, Jesse is attractive—and forgiving. (Hooray!)
7:54pm She’s purty. Back to fear/terror.
7:55pm Went in for the kiss-on-the-cheek hello. Hit her in the face with my umbrella instead. This is going well: There’s only a little blood.
7:55pm Ow.
8:05pm We’re seated family style with neighboring couples enjoying some of the gazillion beers this place has on tap.
8:07pm Everyone but us is sloshed. I reach under the table for my bag and accidentally grab his leg by mistake. I excuse myself and dash to the bathroom. Omigod, omigod, omigod.
8:07pm Did she just grope me? Yeaaaah! Who needs booze?
8:12pm I’m back just in time for a drink order and feel shame in my voice as I mumble “Diet Coke” to our enthusiastic Scottish server. Did he just flinch?
8:12pm “Drink? Water, sadly.” Waiter looks at me funny.
8:13pm She’s asking him about the menu.
8:13pm The lobster roll sounds nice!
8:14pm Still asking.
8:14pm Oooh. Sliders!
8:16pm Seriously?
8:16pm I’m not even that hungry...
8:18pm Finished ordering.“So...where did yougrow up/go to school/get fondled by overfriendly CPR instructor?” You know, the usual get-to-know-you questions.
8:18pm This was a mistake.
8:19pm Note to self: no more jokes.
8:30pm The food arrives and we bond over our mutual hatred of yogurt.
8:30pm “Hrmgf. Scrumsh, Uh-huh. Yeah. Really? Yogurt! Grumsh.”
8:34pm We attack our delicious fried oysters and Jesse pulls out his (apparently vibrating) phone. He shuts it off and says, “My roommate. Probably just checking to see if you’re weird.”
8:36pm He still hasn’t followed up with, “Don’t worry, you’re not.”
8:36pm I should have answered my phone. Consider making inappropriate joke.
8:37pm Awkwaaard.
8:40pm Our waiter returns and flashes Jesse a huge smile. “Another water for the gentleman?” I crack up.
8:40pm Oh, we got ourselves a real comedian over here. Look, funny guy, I’m sober, so I’ll refrain from punching you in the face...for now.
8:45pm Jesse is still not amused.
8:50pm He talks about his dogs and his job. I catch myself pondering all of his potential tragic flaws. I settle on “secret sadomasochist.”
8:50pm I think the waiter just gave me the once-over. Come to think of it, he’s kind of cute.
8:50pm I think she likes the waiter! That’s it.
8:54pm We head outside and I go for a professional handshake, but she’s already turned around and headed up the street, on her cell phone. I need a drink.
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